


Sweet Liqueur

by ClothesBeam



Series: Burn Bright, Burn Fast [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, such down very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6690520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being reminded of their mortality, Rodimus decides to do something nice for Trailcutter before sending him to Ofsted XVII.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rodimus let Megatron’s voice fade into the background as he thought about his collection of spirits. Letting his guard down like this wasn’t something he’d have done around him a few months ago, but he didn’t particularly care anymore. He’d become desensitised to his presence, and considering the evening he had planned with Trailcutter was more pleasant than constant vigilance any day.

He drummed his fingers on top of his datapad as he wondered whether engex would be a distasteful gift given Trailcutter’s tendency for addiction and the recent disabling of his chip. The stuff he had would taste good either way, and there wasn’t enough of it left to get either of them drunk anyway.

“Rodimus!” The change in tone immediately snapped him out of his musings. “Must you?”

“Huh?” he answered, drawing his arm back to his side. His chrono informed him that his shift was officially over.

“Tap incessantly and ignore me completely?” Megatron finished his question when Rodimus only stared in confusion.

“Oh, right, yeah. Sorry, can’t be helped. Guess I’d better get going,” he replied as he stood. Rodimus faltered slightly when Megatron moved to stand in his way, preventing him from leaving the bridge.

“As I was saying, we’re waiting for Trailcutter to give his report, so there’s no need for you to go racing off,” Megatron repeated in a tone that sounded a bit too much like a scolding.

Rodimus glanced around. He was glad Nautica was the only one on the bridge at this hour. They really didn’t need to have conversations like this in public. But he covered up his annoyance with a dumb reply. “Oh! Why didn’t you just say so?”

Megatron also assessed their surroundings before continuing in a lower tone. “Don’t you think having a relationship with your subordinate is unethical?”

_“You_ are lecturing _me_ about ethics? I take back all the things I ever said about your lack of a sense of humour!” When he glanced up again Rodimus saw Trailcutter come into view, walking hurriedly since he was late.

“Sorry, I got caught up!” he apologised quickly, thankfully putting an end to that little conversation. “But there isn’t really much to report on. I’ve already passed on any serious issues – serious by Magnus’ standards that is – to the big mech himself, so there aren’t any outstanding follow-ups pending.”

“Great, then let’s go,” Rodimus said loudly, taking advantage of the fact the warlord had turned away from him to listen and stalking past.

But of course it would never be that easy. “Thank you Trailcutter. May I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Rodimus snorted. “The last time you ‘spoke to him privately’ you permanently altered his frame! Don’t talk to me about ethics!” he snapped before continuing on his way out the door. “I’ll be in my hab,” he added as he passed Trailcutter.

Rodimus fumed all the way back to his quarters, but he knew his anger stemmed from his fear that Megatron might be right. Had Trailcutter ever felt pressured because of their positions in the formal hierarchy on the ship? Doubt immediately sprung to his mind when he remembered how Trailcutter hadn’t been afraid to tell his drunk aft off. But then again, could he really judge that situation when he hadn’t exactly been sober himself at the time?

Rodimus crossed his main living quarters and absentmindedly began searching for the bottle he’d been considering not so long ago. He located it in one of his storage cupboards and also pulled out the glasses he’d ‘requisitioned’ from the bar early in their trip. He placed them on the table set into the wall and glanced down at the fancy bottle in his hand. His grip around it tightened and he bit his lip.

Rodimus recalled the last time he’d served this. Drift had been sitting next to him, and they’d been talking about the war, mostly. It was all anyone really thought about, even still. But that particular night had been the one before the Overlord Incident. Even now he assumed Drift would never want to see his face again.

Rodimus sighed to himself and put the bottle down, glancing around when he thought he heard the door slide open behind him. He had just enough time to turn around with the bottle in his hands before he was pushed up against the table. Trailcutter’s mouth landed on his as he grabbed at him, pressing them closer with urgency.

Rodimus’ optics widened before he shut them of and kissed back properly, fingers wrapping more tightly around the neck of the bottle in his hands. Trailcutter dragged his mouth up his cheek strut and whispered into his audial. “I love you, don’t ever think I don’t. Don’t doubt yourself because of what he said.”

“Stop saying ‘don’t’,” Rodimus muttered, distracting from a difficult issue, as usual. Now that he was sitting on the table, he took his chance to wrap his legs around his lover’s waist. “Is it insensitive to ask if you want some of this?” he asked, shaking the bottle gently in Trailcutter’s face. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Looks really nice,” he replied, gazing down at it. “Go for it.”

Rodimus fumbled for a glass, then had a bit of an issue pouring the drink in such a cramped space. He barely filled it half way before giving up and tilting the rim towards him in offering. Trailcutter wouldn’t take his hands off his waist and aft, so Rodimus ended up pouring some of the drink into his mouth himself.

“Mm, that is really nice,” he murmured appreciatively. One of his large hands slid from his aft to his inner thigh. “But it doesn’t taste as good as you,” he added as his fingers passed over Rodimus’ interfacing panel firmly.

Rodimus felt the heat rise in his face as pleasure shot through his abdomen. “L-look, you don’t have to try and prove it by doing something that makes you uncomfortable,” Rodimus said. Trailcutter was usually bashful in the berth, after all. Not that he was complaining about a bit of variation.

“It feels a bit weird, but I just want to reassure you. As nice as having organised ranks can be, this isn’t exactly a military vessel. Once I reassured Megatron of my enthusiastic participation in our partnership, he gave me some, er, advice.”

Rodimus covered his optics with his hand. “I don’t want to know,” he said flatly.

“The important thing is, you like interfacing and it makes you feel wanted, right?” Rodimus shrugged, not wanting to admit Megatron could see through him. “So, I’m going to try it your way.”

Rodimus gasped softly when Trailcutter’s hand pressed firmly into his interfacing panel again. This was hardly the first time they’d interfaced like this, but it _was_ the first time Trailcutter had initiated it. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

Trailcutter gave a small smile as he sank down onto one knee. Rodimus’ interfacing panels parted eagerly and he put the glass and bottle safely aside. Trailcutter encouraged his heating array along by taking a hold of and rubbing his spike. Rodimus felt so small in his hand. He bit his lip as he watched Trailcutter’s other hand trace the top of the orange panel on his thigh.

His pleasure continued to build and he gazed into Trailcutter’s bright orange visor. He could feel himself getting wet, could feel as his valve started making demands for more attention. Trailcutter seemed to notice this without him needing to say a thing.

He released his spike and grabbed his hips, dragging him forward until he was teetering on the edge of the table. Even kneeling on the ground, Trailcutter could easily reach his interfacing equipment with his mouth in this position. Rodimus let out a small whimper as he pressed his mouth to the bundle of sensors sitting under his spike.

Trailcutter dragged his glossa up the underside of his spike and easily took his entire length between his lips. Rodimus’ elbows locked as he shivered with ecstasy, whimpering with every strong suck. “Trailcutter,” he moaned, wanting to push forward, but not wanting to fall off the table. He settled with squeezing his knees either side of his lover’s face.

Trailcutter continued his ministrations relentlessly, knowing exactly what Rodimus liked and not hesitating to give it to him. Just as charge started to build up in his middle, Trailcutter pulled away with a final suck and Rodimus whimpered with disappointment.

“Please, I’m getting so close. You feel so good.”

“I know you are,” Trailcutter replied. “But I’m just getting started.”

He picked him up off the table, but Rodimus let a hand linger on it so he could balance properly. It didn’t take long for them to realise this wasn’t going to work out very well.

“This, um, went a lot better in my head,” Trailcutter said sheepishly a moment later. “Hold on.”

Rodimus opened his mouth to joke that he _was_ , but that was when he was dragged away from the table completely. Then Trailcutter’s hands left him. Rodimus tensed, expecting to fall, but he simply felt himself tilt back a little more. He onlined his optics when he felt a glossa at his valve entrance.

Trailcutter was using his force field powers to suspend him in place so he could eat him out. Rodimus squirmed as a new bolt of pleasure ran through his frame. Trailcutter glanced up at his movement and paused for a moment.

“This isn’t too weird, is it? Just I’ve always wanted to try it and…”

“I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” Rodimus said quickly. He didn’t mean to interrupt, but he didn’t want his partner feeling like he had to apologise for something unnecessarily.

Trailcutter beamed up at him and continued his ministrations with new vigour. His glossa circled his entrance a few more times before he finally delved inside. He knew exactly what to do with his frame, and Rodimus was more than happy to leave him to it.

“Yes, yes! Just a little more!” he gasped out as his overload built again. Trailcutter maintained his pace. It seemed he would be allowed to finish this time.

Rodimus gave his pleasure a voice as overload tore through his systems. Somewhere in the background he felt himself be gently lowered to the ground.

Rodimus onlined his optics and watched Trailcutter reach up to grab the glass that still had a few sips left in it off the table. “I rudely interrupted you before, didn’t I? Here, have some.”

Rodimus reached out with a slightly shaky hand and took a slow sip, relishing the sweet liquid as it passed over his glossa. He glanced around to see they were on the floor between his table and berth. Rodimus took another sip when his intake dried at the thought of being taken like this. He rubbed himself up against Trailcutter’s abdomen.

Trailcutter smiled a little more shyly this time and a thick finger nudged at his now very relaxed and very well lubricated entrance. Rodimus put the glass down before he could spill what little was left in it everywhere, and spread his legs invitingly. The digit pushed its way inside him easily, so a second one joined it soon after.

Rodimus sat up on his elbows and let his optics travel over Trailcutter’s large frame. The large mech had never exactly caught his optic from across the room, but now that he had a chance to look properly, he definitely liked what he saw. He was handsome, in a quiet sort of way. And his hands could just keep on doing whatever they liked, as far as he was concerned.

Trailcutter’s third finger slid home, and Rodimus was now more than ready to go again. He glanced down at Trailcutter’s impressive array. Rodimus was usually attracted to the physical first, but everything they had done together had been completely off track for him. It had been so easy to trust Trailcutter, even with something as important as his spark. He suddenly felt mortified when he recalled Trailcutter had seen his spark before he’d even seen his interfacing equipment.

“Will you take me from behind?” he found himself asking.

“Oh, uh, if you want to,” Trailcutter replied, slowly sliding his fingers back out.

Rodimus rolled onto his front and was going to get up on his hands and knees, but Trailcutter’s weight slid over him before he could. He automatically pressed his legs together, and Trailcutter took it as an invitation to position himself over him with a knee on either side. He used his hand to guide his spike home, and Rodimus’ face only heated up more when his arms slid under his chassis to encircle him in a hug.

“You doing ok?” Trailcutter murmured as he lowered his face and turned his head to the side in an attempt to look him in the optic despite the position and their height difference.

He was ok, just a little surprised and otherwise emotionally overwhelmed. “Feels good,” he murmured instead. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Trailcutter’s frame seemed to cover every bit of his as he moved in and out of him in slow, shallow strokes, as though trying to maximise the contact between them in every moment. Rodimus folded his arms above his head and used resting on them as an excuse to cover his face. What were they, conjunx already?

“Rodimus, I love you so much,” Trailcutter murmured as his frame continued to slide over him unrelentingly. Rodimus covered his face too late this time. “Are you crying?”

“No,” he sobbed.

One of Trailcutter’s arms slid out from under his torso and circled around his folded arms, doing a much better job of hiding him from the outside world. “Ok, it’s ok,” he murmured.

Their shared overload was as drawn out as their slow and steady lovemaking. Rodimus vaguely registered being picked up and deposited on his berth before Trailcutter curled up around him.

* * *

 

Rodimus returned to his hab from the morgue. He didn’t have time to think right now, there was no time to mourn.

_Ironic_ , he thought as he scooped up the offensive bottle and hurled it at the wall. It smashed, leaving something that looked a little too much like a blood stain on his wall.

Rodimus covered his face with his hands. He hadn’t replied to Trailcutter that night, hadn’t said it back… But there really was no time for this. Their reality as they knew it was at stake.

Fortunately the DJD weren’t the only freaks adept at wearing a mask.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter isn't explicit at all, but I thought I'd shove it in here since it takes place pretty much straight after the previous scene and it's too short and similar to canon to publish on its own. 
> 
> Same as the first part, if you don't want to be sad right now, don't read this.

Landing in the past and having to greet Orion Pax and his team had been kind of awkward. Bringing people they knew with them had been an even worse decision. But the thing that really made it feel like all the energon had vanished from his fuel lines? That was Trailcutter’s smiling face.

The others seemed to have everything under control for now, so Rodimus took his chance to fade into the background. Admittedly it wasn’t something he did very often, but that just made it more unexpected when he did. As long as no one noticed what he was doing, there would be no need for Chromedome to do anything about it.

“Hey big guy, you mind if we have a quick word?”

The disgruntled and somewhat distrustful look that was shot his way was like ice in his spark. They were strangers now, he had to remind himself.

It didn’t help much.

“Sure, I guess,” he agreed easily.

Rodimus flashed him a forced smile and they moved into another room. He repressed the urge to grab hold of him and never let go as they sat down next to each other. “There’s something really important I need you to remember.”

“Uh huh,” he replied disinterestedly, trying to look down the straw of his ener-juice. It seemed he’d taken Trailcutter hanging onto his every word for granted.

“Hey, come on, it’s important to you most of all,” he teased, nudging him gently.

Trailbreaker subtly moved away so he couldn’t breach his personal space. Rodimus looked away when he felt a knot of tension rise in his chassis. He cleared his vocaliser and struggled to continue normally.

“Ofsted XVII, that’s the name of the place. If you ever end up there in the future, you have to avoid leaving the ship.”

Trailbreaker glanced at him sideways, back to drinking from his box. He didn’t seem to care much for what he’d just said, but did seem to realise Rodimus’ emotions were boiling over internally.

“Mmkay,” he mumbled.

Why couldn’t he treat this like it was _important_? “You’ve got it memorised? Ofsted XVII. Don’t leave your ship and don’t donate energon to anyone!”

Trailbreaker’s posture became more hunched and he turned away slightly. Rodimus mentally smacked himself for yelling at him.

“All right, all right! Ofsted XVII, stay on ship, got it.” There was an awkward slurp as he finally seemed to reach the bottom of his juice.

Rodimus stood quickly, realising he had done all he could here. This wasn’t the person he knew, yet, and there wasn’t anything for either of them to gain if he stayed. He tried to rest a hand on his shoulder in the least offensive way possible.

“You’re a good person.”

That, at least, seemed to get his attention. Trailbreaker gazed up at him in surprise. Rodimus patted his shoulder briefly and walked away before he could ask any questions.

Focus. He had to focus on the mission at hand. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to put off mourning for later, after all.

* * *

 

Trailbreaker watched the flashy speedster leave as he crumpled up the box and disposed of it. He pulled a new one out of his subspace and started sucking on that instead. That’s how it always was for him on the frontlines; suck down as much energon as possible between missions so he could use his force field as much as needed.

He still didn’t get what the point of that conversation was supposed to be. He’d call the guy crazy, but that would take meaning from the last thing he’d said. He was… a good person?

Trailbreaker shook his head and stood. He’d never met the speedster in his life, so how would he even know? And yet, the acknowledgement still felt good.

When he returned to the main room, it seemed they were all getting ready to leave again. Everyone was shaking hands and saying their goodbyes, at any rate. Not wanting to be left out, he strode forward quickly.

“Hey, don’t forget about me!” he called.

Chromedome reached for his hand next, and Trailbreaker glanced up right before they touched. Over Chromedome’s shoulder he saw a look of abject terror cross the strange speedster’s face. Trailbreaker got the feeling _he_ wouldn’t forget, but then…

Trailbreaker reset his visual field and glanced down at the ener-juice box in his hand. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but his tanks were still way too empty.

“So, who wants to go get a drink?”

As the others murmured their agreement and headed back inside, Trailbreaker felt the ghost of a recent touch lingering on his shoulder.


End file.
